


Dark Hours

by justanothermaniac



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Animal Abuse, Attempted Murder, Disturbing Themes, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Violent Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-25 22:50:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20379427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanothermaniac/pseuds/justanothermaniac
Summary: "Shhh, it's okay, Miah", he whispers softly, knowing how fucked up it is, hating himself for speaking at all but Jeremiah looks so afraid and he can feel the painful twist of his stomach and Jerome can't take it. "Go to sleep."





	Dark Hours

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gaythom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaythom/gifts).
  * Inspired by [the devil is raging, inside my mind](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15056348) by [gaythom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaythom/pseuds/gaythom). 

> Phew. This got out of hand. I wasn't planning for this to be so long. Hi there, my lovelies. 
> 
> Anyway, I dedicate this piece to the wonderful gaythom, whose absolutely, breathtakingly amazing story inspired me to write this. Please, if you don't know her yet, make sure you read "the devil is raging, inside my mind" and leave kudos and comments, she deserves it for this masterpiece!! Her writing is amazing in general. Just check her out and shower her with love. Do it or I will personally hunt you down.
> 
> Now to gaythom, dear, I really hope you enjoy this one! I gave it my all and thank you again for letting me use your idea! Much love to you and a very tight hug! 💙
> 
> \- jam

Jeremiah gulps, looking at the box cutter in his hand again. "Jerome", he whispers, not looking him in the eye. "I...I don't think I...I don't think I can do this..."

Jerome gets up from where he was kneeling next to the dead squirrel. "Relax." He wraps an arm around Jeremiah's shoulders and noses at his temple. He can feel his brother's uncertainty by the way his stomach seems to shrink into itself. "I already killed it. It's okay." He twin relaxes into him and Jerome presses a kiss to his cheek. "You said you wanted to try. And I think that's a good idea."

Jeremiah doesn't answer. Jerome realizes that he's shaking ever so slightly and his heart gives a painful clench. "I know what you're capable of, Miah", he says earnestly, tightening his hold around Jeremiah for emphasis. "And I think it's time for you to start seeing it too. I know that you think you're weak, and that's bullshit."

The soft giggle makes Jerome smile. Jeremiah likes it when he curses. "Remember when we were five and Uncle Zack shoved me down the trailer stairs, so you tied his shoelaces together when he was passed out in his chair? That was really fucking brave." 

"He punished you for it", Jeremiah says meekly and Jerome grabs him by the shoulders so they're facing each other.

"That's not the point. He punishes me for everything. The point is there's so much inside you that _I_ see that I really want _you_ to see too." Jerome presses his forehead against his twin's, their warm breaths mingling. "Don't try to hold that in, Miah. Let go. Be who I _know_ you are."

Jeremiah takes a deep breath. His grip around the box cutter tightens and Jerome knows he's ready. He squeezes Jeremiah's shoulders once more before stepping back. He doesn't say anything else. He doesn't need to.

Jeremiah looks back at the squirrel again. He exhales slowly, closing his eyes for a long moment before he drops to his feet.

It's a sight to behold.

Jerome is holding his breath while watching Jeremiah dismember and cut open the cadaver. He does it with precision, a certain analytical meticulousness Jerome definitely lacks. Jerome usually rips the dead animals apart, digging through their insides, not sparing any of the bloody chunks a second glance.

It's fascinating how much time Jeremiah takes with every cut, how closely he inspects the squirrel's intestines as he pulls them out. He even makes sure that they're splayed out neatly on the grass, running his fingers over the squirrel's heart, which is about the size of a walnut.

Jerome is stunned. He'd like to say something but he's afraid of breaking the spell. Jeremiah isn't shaking anymore, he's not afraid, he's just...curious. He seems like a scientist, inspecting and comparing vials.

It's beautiful.

"It's all so tiny", Jeremiah whispers then. He is always with Jerome when he does his little experiments with animals, but he never looks. Now, it seems like he's seeing color for the first time. He's absolutely in awe.

Jerome is too. "Funny, isn't it? If you knew how tiny a mouse heart is, you'd lose your shit. A fingernail is bigger." He slowly approaches and drops to his knees next to his brother.

His breath hitches when he sees how bloody his hands are.

Jeremiah is still holding the squirrel's heart in his hand. "Amazing", he whispers, leaning a little bit more into Jerome's space. The older twin turns his head to kiss his temple.

Jeremiah blinks and turns his head to face him. "What was that for?", he asks in honest confusion, his eyes so ridiculously big behind his glasses that Jerome has to use all of his willpower not to tackle him to the ground and shower his face with kisses. _He's adorable._

"I'm so proud of you, baby brother", he says instead and immediately, his heartbeat seems to double in speed.

Jeremiah blushes, so dark that there could very well be blood on his cheeks <strike>_(what a wonderful thought)._</strike> His jaw drops a little and his eyes start to sparkle. "Really?", he asks, so soft and hopeful that Jerome is left speechless for a moment.

His love for Jeremiah seems to have made his heart too big for his chest. He can't breathe and his ribs feel like they might break out of his body any second now. "Really", he rasps and then Jeremiah is collapsing against him, his blood-covered fingers curling in his shirt, his face pressed in Jerome's neck and Jerome feels like he might be drowning.

He wraps his arms around his twin, his other half, his sun, his moon, his everything. He holds him close and presses his face into his soft, ginger curls, inhaling deeply. Strawberries. Why Jeremiah smells like strawberries, he doesn't know. But he has ever since Jerome can remember.

"I really want you to be proud of me", Jeremiah whispers then and _fuck,_ Jerome is. He _is. _He's proud and full of love, so much love that he might explode.

He loves Jeremiah endlessly. No one will ever love Jeremiah as much as he does. No one.

<strike> _Then, why give anyone the chance to hurt him?_ </strike>

<strike></strike>Jerome lifts his head from his brother's hair. Where did that thought come from? He shakes his head, resting his chin atop of Jeremiah's. 

<strike> _It's your duty to protect him._ </strike>

<strike></strike>It is. Jerome knows it is.

<strike> _No one will ever appreciate him. This world is going to swallow him whole._ </strike>

<strike></strike>He hugs Jeremiah a little tighter. He's not going to let that happen. Never.

<strike> _You have to save him from that._ </strike>

<strike></strike>Jeremiah shifts a little in his arms. "Jerome? Are you okay?"

<strike> _Put an end to that suffering before it even begins._ </strike>

<strike></strike>Jeremiah pulls out of his hold to look at him with concern. Jerome smiles at him, taking one of his brother's bloody hands in his and lifting it to his lips.

<strike> _Protect him._ </strike>

<strike></strike>He kisses the red-stained knuckles, tastes copper and tries to focus on that, tries to focus on Jeremiah's deep blue eyes, his round cheeks, his faintly visible freckles. They're identical but Jerome always found Jeremiah has softer features. He's cuter.

<strike> _Save him._ </strike>

Jerome tries to push the voice down. "I'm perfect. I just love you."

<strike> _Kill him._ </strike>

Jeremiah giggles. "I love you too."

<strike> _You have to. It's the only way. _ </strike>

* * *

<strike></strike> It started when they were seven and Jerome watched Jeremiah dissect his first squirrel. He remembers how warm he felt, how he was about to burst from pride and love.

Five years later and the voice is still there, gnawing at Jerome's mind like a rabid rodent.

It's easy to ignore most of the time. He's so used to having violent thoughts that the voice just...blends in.

He'll imagine binding Uncle Zack's extremities to four different elephants and have them all start running, while the voice tells him to wrap a wire around Jeremiah's neck.

He'll think about tying Lila up and covering her in shavings so she'll get stomped to death by the circus performers, while the voice tells him to put cyanide in Jeremiah's food.

It's not a big deal. It's not.

What scares Jerome is that he's starting to think the voice could be right.

They're laying in bed as he thinks it. It's getting a little small for them, they've grown quite a bit now that they're twelve. But it's alright. They've always preferred to cuddle.

Jerome turns his head to look at Jeremiah. His eyes are closed and he's breathing softly, fast asleep. As always, he's clutching Cayenne to his chest.

Cayenne is the stuffed cat Jerome got him for their fourth birthday. He has ginger fur with white spots on his paws and ears, and a bright pink nose. His belly is also white. The black knobs that serve as his eyes are staring up at the ceiling without seeing <strike>_(thank fuck)._</strike> Jeremiah describes Cayenne's eyes as warm and patient. Jerome isn't so sure about that.

Jeremiah loves this stuffed cat with all of his heart. Jerome knows that and it makes his chest swell before it deflates again, leaving him breathless and miserable.

The rodent snaps its jaw, white foam spilling out with every word. <strike>_They're going to rip him apart if you don't do something._</strike>

Jerome knows that, despite the darkness slumbering deep inside his baby brother, he'd never let himself let go. This world is going to hurt him, poison him, tear him to shreds.

Jerome can't let that happen. 

He has to protect Jeremiah. He loves Jeremiah, he loves him more than anyone else could ever possibly love him. He can't let anyone hurt him.

<strike> _Even if it means hurting him yourself._ </strike>

Yes.

He sits up, quietly, waiting, watching Jeremiah's sleeping face for any sign that he might be waking up. He's not. Jerome thinks he looks like an angel when he's at peace like that.

Jerome can make him look like an angel forever.

He moves swiftly, straddling Jeremiah. Cayenne stares up at him, his dark gaze piercing his soul. He knows what Jerome is going to do.

Jerome frowns at him. "Don't look at me like that", he whispers and gently pulls Cayenne from his brother's grasp. He stirs a little and Jerome reaches out, running a hand through his hair soothingly. Jeremiah relaxes again. "Jerome...", he whispers and a small smile pulls at the corners of his mouth, knocking the air from Jerome's lungs.

Cayenne feels heavier than usual. His stare burns. "You don't understand", Jerome hisses at him. "I'm doing this for him. I have to. I don't...why am I even trying to explain myself to you? You're...fuck, I'm _still_ doing it!"

He flings the stuffed cat off the bed. Cayenne lands on the floor with hardly a sound, no longer staring, no longer judging.

Jeremiah groans a little, as if he could feel the abuse of his second favorite thing on earth. The first being Jerome.

He inhales deeply, closing his eyes. The rodent is on all fours, ready to attack.

<strike> _Do it. For him._ </strike>

Jerome opens his eyes and looks at Jeremiah. He slowly lifts his hands and unconsciously notes that they're shaking. 

His skin is warm when Jerome wraps his hands around Jeremiah's throat, not squeezing yet, just feeling. Jeremiah's pulse seems to beat in Jerome's head, slow and steady but unbearably loud.

_Beat._

_Beat._

_Beat._

_Beat._

_Beat._

The rodent digs it's tiny claws in Jerome's brain.

He squeezes.

Jeremiah's eyes snap open.

Their eyes meet and Jeremiah looks confused. He's still half asleep, blinking several times. But abruptly, he's wide awake, the confusion fleeting to leave room for complete and utter shock.

Something shatters within Jerome's chest. The rodent digs its claws in deeper.

He leans forward a little, putting more pressure on Jeremiah's throat.

Trembling hands come up, delicate fingers wrapping around Jerome's wrists. His baby brother is trying to gasp for air but is denied it. "J...rrr...mh..!", he tries to say, his voice more tremble than sound. Jerome's fingers twitch.

<strike>_Don't be selfish. Keep squeezing. For him._ </strike>

"Shhh, it's okay, Miah", he whispers softly, knowing how fucked up it is, hating himself for speaking at all but Jeremiah looks so _afraid_ and he can feel the painful twist of his stomach and Jerome can't _take it. _"Go to sleep."

Jeremiah's hold around Jerome's wrists tightens. He shakes his head curtly, his movement limited due to the crushing grip. The rodent's eyes are glowing red. <strike>_Keep squeezing. Don't stop now._</strike>

"Plea...dnt..!"

There's tears in Jeremiah's eyes. He's hurting, Jerome can feel it, it's like a knife in his chest that gets twisted again and again and again -!

Jeremiah's fingers graze over his cheek. Jerome didn't even realize the grip on his wrist disappeared.

The rodent screeches as it's being grabbed and dragged away, far, far away into the depths of Jerome's mind.

He lets go and springs back on the bed like he was burned. Jeremiah sucks in a breath before starting to cough, sitting up and holding his throat as he tries to breathe while fighting the urge to vomit at the same time.

Jerome can hear his own heartbeat, too hard, too fast, his chest about to break open, _thumpthump, thumpthump, thumpthump, thumpthump, thumpthump._

What was that? What is _wrong_ with him?

Jeremiah is still holding his throat but he's looking up, looking for Jerome's gaze. His eyes are glazed and filled with concern. _Concern._ He can't stand it. "Miah..!", he whispers, not knowing what he's supposed to say, how Jeremiah is supposed to ever forgive him for this, fuck, he doesn't know what _this_ even _is._

Jerome can't breathe. He digs his fingernails into his scalp, trying to focus on anything else, anything besides the fact that he _tried to kill his baby brother._

"Jerome?"Jeremiah's voice is raspy, barely even there. It hurts. "Jerome..."

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I don't know what _happened..!", _Jerome whispers, refusing to let the tears fall that are burning in the corners of his eyes, mocking him. He wonders if this is how Jeremiah feels when he's having a panic attack. If so, he doesn't understand how he can handle it every time. It feels like drowning, like his lungs are filling with water, leaving him unable to breathe.

He still wants to cry. But he doesn't deserve to cry. Not after what he did.

"Jerome, look at me..."

He can't, _he can't._ He doesn't deserve to. Never again.

"Big brother, please..."

_Big brother._ Jeremiah never calls him that, only when things are really, really bad. Jerome squeezes his eyes shut. He caused this. Things are really, really bad because of _him._

"Please...please, don't push me away..."

Jeremiah is crying. Jerome can feel the desperate longing in his own chest. Fuck. _Fuck. _He doesn't know what to do. He knows what he _wants_ to do, he knows what _Jeremiah_ wants him to do but he can't, he can't, he _can't. _

"Jerome, hold me, _please..!"_

And how the _fuck_ is he supposed to resist that? Jerome exhales slowly, lifting his head to look at Jeremiah. He really is crying, fingers dug into the fabric of his sweatpants. He looks so small, so young.

Jerome crawls over to him but doesn't say a word when he wraps his arms around his shoulders. He's unnaturally stiff, but he doesn't dare to hold him any tighter.

Jeremiah has different ideas though. He shifts and settles in Jerome's lap, wrapping his arms around Jerome's neck. "Really hold me", he whispers, burying his face in the crook of Jerome's neck. It fits perfectly. It always has. 

Jerome shouldn't. He doesn't deserve it. But their chests are pressed together, he can feel Jeremiah's heartbeat through the contact and his hair tickles Jerome's nose, he can smell the strawberries and _fucking hell, he needs it. _

He wraps his arms around Jeremiah's waist, pulls him as close as he possibly can, burying his face in his hair. He inhales deeply, the beloved scent sending a pleasant tingle over his skin. Miah. _Miah._

"Miah", he whispers shakily, his heart aching. How could he do that? What has gotten into him? He's sick, he's a monster, he's _wrong -! _

"Jerome." Jeremiah has lifted his face from Jerome's neck and is now cupping his cheeks. "I'm okay." His voice is still barely there. "I am."

Jerome gaze falls on the dark marks around his neck. His soul is being crushed. Jeremiah tightens his hold on Jerome's face, aligns their foreheads so he can't see. "I love you", he whispers and Jerome hates how hot tears are streaming down his cheeks now.

He bumps his nose against Jeremiah's, needing to feel him more and closer and _breathing._ "I love you too, fuck, baby bro, I love you so much." His voice sounds hoarse, as if he's the one who got choked. "Don't ever doubt that, please, please, I love you more than -"

"Shhh..." Jeremiah runs a hand through his hair, something Jerome usually does. Jerome is also usually the one doing the comforting. This is all wrong. It shouldn't be like this. Jeremiah shouldn't have to comfort him, _why is he comforting him, Jerome tried to kill him, Jeremiah should HATE him -_

"Jerome, feel my heartbeat", he whispers, taking one of Jerome's hands in his own to press it against his chest. Jerome knows what he's going to say next because it's usually Jerome who says it. "Feel that? That's for you."

Jerome inhales deeply, letting his brother's gentle, steady heartbeat guide his own. He knows now why Jeremiah appreciates it so much when Jerome does this for him. He doesn't know how, but it actually works. "My heart beats for you and _only_ for you."

For him. This is for him. 

Jerome curls his fingers in Jeremiah's shirt. "For me", he repeats in a hushed tone and Jeremiah nods.

"Yes. For you. Only for you."

"For _me."_ Jerome moves them around so they're laying down again. He wraps his arms around Jeremiah as tight as he possibly can, pressing his lips to Jeremiah's forehead. "My Miah. Mine."

His. Jeremiah is his. No one can have him. No one _will_ have him. Jeremiah belongs to Jerome and Jerome won't let anything happen to him. Jeremiah is his world, his entire universe.

He almost destroyed that today. He almost destroyed his only reason to live. _Never again. Never. _

"Your Miah." He feels it as much as he hears it because Jeremiah buried his face in his neck again. He likes it there, Jerome knows.

His chest feels heavy. He takes another deep breath, nuzzling Jeremiah's hair. The guilt is weighing him down, on the verge of crushing his lungs to dust and he doesn't think it's ever going to stop.

Until - 

"Where's Cayenne?", Jeremiah suddenly asks and Jerome can't help it, he laughs. Of course Jeremiah is going to ask _that_ next. He's endlessly grateful that's the case.

"I may or may not have thrown him across the room." Jeremiah immediately sits up, staring at Jerome in absolute horror and the weight gets lifted just a bit by how comfortingly familiar it is. Jerome shrugs. "He's a jerkface."

Jeremiah's eyes widen before he scrambles off the bed. "Don't call him that, you're the jerkface!" He finds Cayenne on the floor and immediately clutches him to his chest, burying his face in the fur of his head. Jerome can't hear him but he _knows_ that he's apologizing on his behalf.

He feels warmth pool in his stomach. He knows that this reaches much deeper than they both want to admit, he knows that they shouldn't be done talking about this. But he doesn't dare to question anything right now. He doesn't want to.

He watches Jeremiah nuzzle his stuffed cat. This, he can handle _this._ This feels right. Why would he want to focus on anything else right now?

He hears the echo of a cackle within his own mind, high-pitched and alien-sounding. <strike>_You should._</strike>

"Ya gonna come back here or do I have to make Cayenne forgive me first?", Jerome mumbles. He's not even joking this time. And it seems that Jeremiah can tell.

He turns to look at Jerome and smiles. It's faint and barely visible but it's real. It's honest. It's for Jerome only.

He crawls back into bed, practically on top of Jerome before cuddling close again, with Cayenne in his arms. Jerome sighs and wraps his arms around both of them, gently scratching Cayenne's ear.

Jeremiah giggles fondly. "He's already forgiven you", Jeremiah whispers and Jerome snorts. "We both know that's a lie." He's not referring to tossing Cayenne on the floor. That's also something they both know.

Jeremiah lifts his head from Jerome's chest. "I'll make him forgive you", he promises before pressing his lips to Jerome's. The older twin lets himself lean into it, eyes closing. One of his hands finds its way into Jeremiah's hair. This feels right too.

They pull away and Jeremiah rests his ear above Jerome's heart. Jerome pulls the blanket out from under their bodies and drapes it over them. "Jerome?"

He kisses Jeremiah's forehead again. "Yeah?"

A frozen claw wraps around his heart, squeezing. "Please don't do that again..."

Jerome suppresses the urge to flinch. "I promise", he whispers, tightening his hold around his twin.

From the depth of his mind, he can hear the rodent's voice, calling for him. <strike>_This isn't over yet. _</strike>


End file.
